I Knew
by MoonlightBreeze7
Summary: When Emily's dark secret is revealed while on a case, JJ knows she has to do something. She can't lose Emily like she lost her sister Rosaline. But can JJ really save Emily from her own demons, or is the other woman already too far gone? Contains self-harm and mentions of suicide. No character death. Jemily femslash.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hey, guys! This is the second Criminal Minds fanfiction and my first fic ever that's not a oneshot. I'm not sure where I got this idea, but I'm glad I did. There's going to be many more chapters. They'll vary in length ~ this one is about 1,500 words, but the next may be shorter or longer depending on where I decide my stopping point for the chapter should be. And I thought I should mention that the characters in this fic are probably more than a little bit OOC. You'll see in the later chapters that their characters have much more depth than they do on the show. In case you were wondering what prompted me to form their personalities this way, Emily is based heavily off of me and my real-life experiences and how I handle things. JJ is simply a character that I've written to suit Emily while still maintaining a level of imperfect humanity. After all, no one is perfect :) Everyone else in this book is written as close to the show-them as I can make them. I really hope you like this fanfiction! Please leave reviews, I love hearing from you! Have a good day/night!**

**~ Em**

**TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains self-harm as a prevalent theme, and there are mentions and possibly descriptions of suicide, as well. If you could be triggered by any of this, please do not read. The safety of my readers is my highest priority. If you would like me to list a potential trigger here that I didn't catch when you read the rest of this, or if you feel a scene is too graphic to not have a trigger warning in the corresponding chapter itself, please leave a review or PM me and let me know, and I'll fix it. Stay safe, everyone!**

**NOTE: There WILL be femslash in this story. Don't like, don't read.**

I knew.

In some capacity, I think I've always known. Somehow, some way, the knowledge was there, buried under several thick layers of denial. All it took was one day and one case to unravel that denial. After that, there was no going back. I refused to stay oblivious. Not when I knew.

It was the fourth of February, ironically just a week before the anniversary of Rosaline's death. We had caught a case in Alabama, and I was getting ready to deliver it to the team in the conference room when the elevator dinged and Emily Prentiss walked into the bullpen, ten minutes late.

If it was anyone else, I wouldn't be suspicious. Everyone is allowed to have off days now and then, and everyone is allowed to occasionally be late. But it was Emily. And Emily is _never_ late.

I jogged to catch up with her before she slipped into the conference room to join the others, and she gave me a wide smile when she saw me, and waited.

"Emily, are you alright?" I asked, a trifle breathlessly. Emily's eyes darted around nervously at my line of questioning. I noticed her fingers wrap protectively around her long sleeves.

"Yeah, Jayj, I'm fine," she replied. "I just got stuck in some traffic, that's all."

"Okay," I trailed off, making a mental note to pursue the matter later, when we weren't on a case. I held the door for her, and we entered the conference room together.

Hotch gave Emily a reprimanding look as she walked in, and she grimaced apologetically and said, "Traffic, sorry."

"It's alright, Prentiss. Just don't let it happen again."

"Yes, sir."

I stood and passed out case files to everyone before clicking the remote and filling the projector with the images that were, even for us, horrendous. I stared directly at my coworkers, refusing to acknowledge what was behind me. With the anniversary of Ros's death being so near, I didn't trust myself to keep my head looking at them.

"This is Tara Leakley, Jessica Burke, and Ashley Sanchez," I said, gesturing with the remote to each of the teenagers in question. "They were murdered last week within three days of each other."

"That's a hell of a cooling-off period," Morgan remarked. "This can't be his first time." The others nodded in agreement.

"They were all shot in the head at point-blank range, and their wrists and ankles show evidence of ligature marks," I continued. "The ME thinks that those scars and cuts all over their arms, thighs, and hips are from years of self-harm." I watched everyone's faces closely. Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi remained impassive, but Reid gave me a small, barely discernible sympathetic smile, remembering one night long ago when I had confessed to him that Ros had self-harmed for years leading up to her suicide. I returned it softly. Emily's eyes widened when she saw the girls, and now she chewed her lip nervously, the only sign that anything was wrong. I doubt the others in the room even picked up on it, it was so tiny. But years of knowing Emily Prentiss had taught me her small tells. No one is _that_ good at compartmentalizing.

"Well, this certainly puts a twist on things," Rossi commented, always the one to break the silence in a witty way.

"Wait, how are we sure that these are murders and these girls didn't just kill themselves?" Morgan asked.

"Well, there's the identical ligature marks on all of the bodies, for starters," I replied, but Morgan didn't seem impressed, so I continued, "and Ashley Sanchez was left-handed, so it's extremely unlikely that she shot herself in the right side of her head on purpose."

Satisfied, Morgan nodded in response to my explanation.

"With three victims killed in a six-day span, we could be looking at the start of a spree here," Hotch stated, "so we'd better get on this as soon as possible. Wheels up in 30." The team dissipated from the conference room to get ready. I clicked off the projector and gathered my own set of the case files before following them down to the bullpen to grab my go-bag and notify the sheriff of the Birmingham police department that we were on our way.

When we were all seated and the jet began to make its ascent, I looked up from my phone for a minute to take notice of everyone's different positions. Morgan was sprawled comfortably in a seat near the cockpit with his eyes closed and his headphones on. Hotch and Rossi sat across from each other near the front, discussing something quietly over their morning cups of coffee. Reid had immediately claimed the couch near the back of the jet to grab a couple more hours of sleep before the case and was now providing some calming background noise with his snoring. Lastly, Emily sat in the seat closest to the bathroom, at the back of the plane, absorbed in the book she was reading.

Satisfied that she was okay for now, I turned my attention back to my phone and the online book I'd been reading for the past few days.

Before I knew it, I'd read seven chapters and the jet was beginning to land in Birmingham. Out of some strange sense of protectiveness, I again looked around the plane for each of my team members. Morgan had removed his headphones and was now sitting up and leaning towards Hotch and Rossi, clearly expecting to be given an assignment soon. Reid was still sleeping, and Emily - Emily was nowhere to be found. I frowned deeply. Just before I could voice my concern to the others, she appeared from the bathroom, wiping her hands on her blazer. She offered me a warm smile when she caught me looking, and I returned it weakly. Something didn't feel right.

I brushed it off and walked over to the couch, shaking Reid awake gently. He sat up and yawned, blinking the blurriness out of his eyes. I smiled fondly at him and handed him his case files, which were on the floor next to him. He gave me a grateful smile in response and moved to join the rest of us, who had simultaneously clambered around Hotch for our usual sharing of opinions before we landed.

"Alright, let's go over victimology," Hotch began.

"So far the only thing that connects these victims is their self-inflicted injuries," Morgan pointed out. "Tara Leakley was black, so race doesn't matter to him. Appearance doesn't seem to, either, since all the girls had different hair and eye colours."

"Could gender be a factor?" Reid asked curiously.

"Maybe," Hotch replied. "It's too early to tell."

"How old were they?" Rossi asked. I peered down at my case files.

"Ashley Sanchez was fifteen, Tara Leakley sixteen, and Jessica Burke fourteen," I replied.

"I don't think specific age has anything to do with it, but it looks like he's targeting teenagers," Emily spoke up for the first time. Her eyes were clouded with an emotion that I couldn't discern, but her business-like manner was as crisp and professional as always. None of the other team members seemed to notice anything off about her at all.

"That could just be because teenagers have a higher rate of self-injury, though," Reid pointed out.

Emily's eyes flashed for a brief second. If I hadn't been staring at her already, I would have missed it. "There are plenty of adults who self-harm, too," she said, a hint of bitter anger in her voice. The rest of the team noticed this, too, but elected not to say anything.

"Of course," Reid replied, sensing that something was up and quickly backing down. "I didn't mean to insinuate that there aren't. I'm sorry, Emily." He looked so contrite that Emily's features softened immediately, guilt flashing in her coffee-coloured eyes.

"No need to be sorry, Reid. You were just making a point." She smiled at him softly, and he returned it, too happy that she wasn't angry with him.

"Alright," Hotch said, noticing that the jet had come to a stop, "Dave, you and Morgan go to the park where the latest victim was found. Reid, you and I are going to run point at the station and start working up a geographical profile. Prentiss, I want you and JJ to talk to the victims' families."

We all scattered after Hotch finished speaking to retrieve our things and exit the plane. Soon after, we split up to tackle our various assignments. Emily held her hand out for the keys to the SUV. I rolled my eyes at her. "You've got such a control complex," I teased. "What if I wanted to drive for once?"

Emily groaned, a smile lighting up her sharp features at my playfulness. "Oh, come on, Jayj. We both know you hate driving."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "This is true." I tossed her the keys, but the smile left my face in a hurry when she caught them and they hit the side of her arm. Though the keys weren't nearly heavy enough to hurt, Emily winced visibly. I swallowed hard and tried to put the thought aside for later. I needed to focus on this case.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Tell me what you think of the second chapter in a review down below! I promise it'll get more interesting soon. Thanks for reading and have a good day/night, everyone!**

**~ Em**

We arrived at the first victim, Tara Leakley's, house in no time, thanks to Emily's wild and, at times, reckless driving. She knocked on the door confidently. Soon after, an older woman came to answer it, her face tearstained and her hair a mess. "Y-Yes?"

"Hi, I'm Emily Prentiss, and this is my partner, Agent Jennifer 're with the FBI." I felt a warm smile take over my features at her words. She'd never referred to me as her partner before.

"Oh, o-okay. P-Please, come in." Mrs. Leakley stepped to the side and allowed us to enter. Emily and I settled ourselves on one of the couches in the living room. Mrs. Leakley paced the floor in front of us.

"P-Pardon me, I'm being rude. Would you like anything to drink, agents? I could make some tea or coffee."

"Thank you, but we're okay," I answered. "Please, Mrs. Leakley, have a seat." The distraught woman obeyed, perching herself in an armchair directly opposite from us.

"We need to ask you a few questions about your daughter, Tara, if that's okay," I said kindly.

"O-Of course. Whatever you need."

"Mom? Who's that?" I looked up to see a young girl, no older than Tara was, peeking her head out of her room in curiosity.

"Nothing, Angelica. Go back to your room." She disappeared behind the door.

"Mrs. Leakley, was your daughter depressed?" Emily asked. If she was struggling with this interview, she gave no sign of it.

"Yes," Tara's mother answered quietly. "She's been depressed for going on five years now. It started right after she turned twelve. She was getting bullied at school for having good grades." The older woman let out a heartless chuckle. "Imagine that, getting picked on for being smart." She shook her head. "And then about halfway through the year, I found her in her room with a razor to her wrist." Mrs. Leakley's eyes filled with tears. "I tried to get her help. I took her to a doctor and they diagnosed her with clinical depression. I tried to get her to see a therapist, but she wasn't having none of that. S-She just slipped through my fingers, I guess." Tara's mother cried openly now.

"Mrs. Leakley, this wasn't your fault," Emily said empathetically, reaching a hand out to comfort the crying woman. "Whoever murdered her is solely responsible for what happened to Tara." I stared in wonder. Of course, Emily could be extremely sympathetic when need be, but usually it was the other way around - me comforting the victim and her taking notes and getting the information we needed for the case.

"T-Thank you," Mrs. Leakley shuddered.

"May we see Tara's room?" I asked her, trying to allow the woman some time to compose herself before we picked up the questioning again.

"Yes, of course," she replied. "It's right through there." I turned to her, surprised.

"Angelica and Tara share a room?"

"T-They're twins," Mrs. Leakley said. "They've always been very close." Emily and I shared a glance. If anyone was going to know something helpful about how Tara died, it was her twin. We rose, leaving Mrs. Leakley to wipe at her eyes and try to regain control of herself. I offered her a sympathetic smile before following Emily into Tara's room.

Angelica looked up from her place on the top bunk bed when we entered. "What are you doing in here? You can't be in here." Despite her words, her tone, which was laced with pain, gave away her real emotions.

"We're just trying to get some clues about who might have killed Tara from her room," I explained gently to the young girl. Angelica fell silent.

"Did she fight?"

I looked up at her. "What?"

"Did she fight? Tara. Before that guy shot her, did she fight?"

"Um, there's no defensive wounds on her body, no," I replied uncomfortably. "But she was restrained."

Angelica shook her head. "I knew it." Her face was wet with tears. "I'll bet Tara didn't even try to fight him when he held that gun to her head." Her voice wavered. "I'll bet she just closed her eyes, and thought, 'Finally'." Her voice cracked on the last syllable, and her eyes filled with tears. I stayed silent, not knowing what to say or if there was anything I could say.

"It's not a bad way to go, you know?" Angelica said, sounding wistful. I jerked my head up to meet her eyes, but found that Emily was already staring intensely at the young girl. Concern was etched into her features.

"What do you mean, Angelica?" I asked carefully.

"Getting shot in the head," she replied. "It's not a bad way to go. It wouldn't hurt. It'd be almost instantaneous, wouldn't it?" She closed her eyes, tears leaking out the corners of them. "I bet it'd feel like freedom."

I looked over at Emily to gauge her reaction, but she was already climbing the ladder to Angelica's bunk bed and settling herself next to the distraught teen. She took Angelica's hand in her own and spoke to her softly. I busied myself looking around the room, pretending not to be listening to their conversation.

"Tara wouldn't want you to think like that," Emily was saying. "Thoughts like those can get you into trouble really quick, Angelica." I felt my heart seize up at that.

"I know," Angelica replied. "That's the whole point."

"Hey, hey, no," Emily said, and I chanced a glance at her in time to see her take ahold of Angelica's chin and force the younger girl to look at her. "Angelica, have you seen your mother lately? She's devastated by Tara's death. She can't lose both of you." Angelica broke down crying, and Emily pulled her into her chest.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," she reassured the upset girl. "I know it hurts right now, but it will get better, I promise."

They stayed like that for a few minutes more, Emily rocking her gently back and forth as she cried into her arms, until Angelica pulled away and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry." She looked away. "You weren't meant to see that."

"There's nothing wrong with showing vulnerability, Angelica," Emily said passionately. "Especially at a time like this." She placed a light kiss on the girl's forehead and began to climb down the bunk bed.

Before she could, however, Angelica shouted, "Wait!"

She paused on the last rung. "Yes?"

"C-Can I talk to you more? If you don't mind, of course. I-I wouldn't want to be a b-burden."

"Yes, of course you can," Emily replied, appearing delighted that she'd asked, "and you won't ever be a burden, Angelica, I swear." She pulled a business card from the pocket of her blazer and handed it to the teenager above her. "Call me anytime, day or night. I'll be there."

"Thank you," Angelica whispered.

"Anytime," Emily said, and jumped down from the ladder to land beside me. Her eyes were clouded with grief, empathy, and another emotion I couldn't make out. She placed a warm hand on my shoulder and said, "Come on, Jayj, let's go."

By the time we arrived back at the police station, it was past lunchtime and I was starving. After reporting our findings (which weren't much; all three girls were depressed, all for different reasons, and all had varying problems with self-harm for years) to Hotch and the rest of the team, I grabbed eagerly for the leftover Chinese food on the table. I was about to offer some to Emily, but she had disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, guys! I'm sorry I didn't update these past few days. I've been in Iowa with family for an early Christmas. Tomorrow, I go to my grandparents' house. However, I plan on spending a lot of the time there writing this story. I was thinking about making some Christmas-themed oneshots, too. What do you think about that? I might post them here or my other writing platforms. I haven't decided yet. Speaking of which, if you'd like to follow me elsewhere, my Archive of Our Own is MoonlightBreeze and my Wattpad is EmmaWriting. I've written two reader-insert oneshots for Supernatural on AO3 and I've written Destiel oneshots and many non-fanfiction books on Wattpad. If you'd like to see those, please follow me there! I'd greatly appreciate it. Without further ado, the third chapter of I Knew!**

**~ Em**

By the time seven o'clock had rolled around, we were no closer to solving the case than we were in the morning.

"Go home, get some rest," Hotch told us. "Be back here tomorrow morning at nine am with fresh eyes." I was only too happy to comply. The hotels around Birmingham were limited, so we had to double up, not that anyone really minded. Emily and I shared a room, as usual.

"I'm so tired," I groaned, throwing my things onto the bed nearest to the door.

"Me, too," Emily remarked, taking up residence on the bed I hadn't claimed. "I'm just going to pass the fuck out." And true to her word, she did, falling asleep right there on top of her bed, still in her work clothes. I chuckled softly and changed into my pyjamas and a plain white tank top. I turned off the light and climbed into bed, closing my eyes.

When I opened them again, light was streaming through the scantily-covered windows. It was morning. I groaned, rubbing a hand over my crusty eyes. To my right, I could see Emily still sleeping. Groggily, I threw a pillow at her and shouted, "Em, time to wake up!" She did so slowly, throwing the pillow back at me when she was fully awake. I laughed, and she did, too.

"What time is it?" She yawned, stretching her arms out in front of her like a cat. I took notice of the way she wrapped her fingers around her long sleeves as she stretched, but quickly brushed it off in favour of answering her question.

"Like - " I broke off to look at the clock on my bedside table and swore loudly. "It's eight thirty, we've got to get ready!"

"Oh, shit!" Emily quickly clambered out of bed, grabbing for her bag on the floor. "Okay, Jayj, you can go first in the bathroom," she offered. "I'll get changed and get your clothes ready for you."

I blushed at the thought of Emily picking out my clothes but agreed, racing to the bathroom to begin the process of making myself look presentable.

When I came out of the bathroom with makeup done and hair brushed, I caught sight of Emily sliding a new blazer on. I thought I saw something red on her wrist, but I couldn't be sure; the minute she saw me standing there, Emily yanked her sleeves down and began buttoning her shirt, refusing to meet my eyes.

I walked over to my bed, where Emily had laid out my favourite pair of pants and shirt, trying to quell the growing suspicions in my mind. I changed quickly and picked up the keys to our SUV from the bowl on my bureau.

"Ready?" I called to Emily, who responded in the affirmative. We rushed out of our room and downstairs to the SUV.

We arrived at the police station just before nine. Hotch gave us a look, but since we weren't technically late, he couldn't say anything. I shared a wide smile with Emily, and she grinned back.

"Guys, what if we've been looking at this all wrong?" Morgan said out of the blue later that day. "We keep focusing on the connection between the victims, trying to figure out how they knew each other, but maybe we should be looking at how the unsub found them."

"You know, that's not a bad idea," Hotch mused. "Why don't you call Garcia and have her look up anybody in authority positions to these girls - teachers, counselors, social workers. See if there's any overlap between the three."

Morgan nodded and picked up his phone to call Garcia. "Hey, baby girl." A few seconds of their flirtatious banter passed before Morgan got down to business. Emily and I shared a secret smile. If any couple was going to get together by the end of the year, my bets were on Morgan and Garcia.

After the call was made, we all sat back, with not much else to do but wait for Garcia to gather the information. Suddenly, the sheriff burst through the doors to the room they set up for us, appearing slightly winded.

"We think another girl's been taken," he panted. "The name's Brenda Thomas. Her mother reported her missing about an hour ago. I just spoke with her, and she fits the pattern to a T."

I chewed on my lip anxiously. The stakes just got so much higher.

The phone rang, startling all of us in the room. "Yeah, Garcia, go," Hotch answered.

"Okay, my pretties, I have rounded up a list of names of anyone in authority positions in these girls' lives," she began, "and I have one name that overlaps with all three - Matthew Riley. He's a counselor at Tara's school and holds support groups for struggling students at Jessica's and Ashley's, both of whom attended the group. And he has got quite the history, too - arrested when he was a teen for assault; he punched a guy's lights out at his school. Later in life, he got arrested again for another assault charge and illegal possession of a firearm. Looks like he started going downhill after his sister, Aubrey, died of breast cancer last year. He was charged with two murders, but he walked away from it after the key witness refused to testify."

"Nice work, Garcia," Hotch complimented the quirky technical analyst. "Can you check if he's involved in the life of a girl named Brenda Thomas?"

Fast typing could be heard over the phone before Garcia replied, "Yes, it says here that Mr. Riley volunteers for the library at Brenda's school."

"We've got him," Rossi said excitedly.

"Garcia, you got an address on this guy?" Hotch asked.

"Already sent to your phones," she replied. "Be safe, my loves." Morgan muttered a quick goodbye to her as he strapped on his Kevlar. Hotch and Rossi were already out the door, jumping into the FBI vehicle waiting outside.

We rushed out of the police station with the sheriff and several officers on our heels. Reid and Morgan went to their SUV, and Emily and I dashed to ours. With the lights and sirens flashing, we raced towards Matt Riley's address, hoping against hope that we wouldn't be too late.

When we arrived at the Riley residence, we knew immediately that we were in the right place. A man's voice was screaming from within.

"Look at you! There are people dying, and you can't even be grateful for the life you have! You're destroying your body when some people don't even have the luxury of going to school! You're stupid, worthless, and pathetic! You want to die so bad, maybe I should just kill you myself!"

Emily and I shared a glance, and I looked at Hotch, silently asking for permission. He nodded and gestured for us to go in first.

"FBI! Drop your weapon!" We burst through the door, guns trained on Matt Riley, who immediately grabbed Brenda by the neck and pressed the gun to her head.

"Don't move!" he shouted. "Don't move, or I'll blow her head off!"

"Okay, okay," I said, holding my hands up in a sign of surrender. "We're just here to talk, Mr. Riley."

"Put your weapon away!" I did as he instructed, tucking my Glock into the back of my pants. "Both of you!" He gestured wildly at Emily, who kept her gun trained determinedly at the unsub. I chanced a quick look over at her. Her jaw was set in a straight line, and her eyes were fierce. She didn't return my gaze, keeping it locked on Riley.

"I don't think that's quite fair," I tried to reason with him. "That would mean you have a weapon, and we don't."

"Put it away!" His finger jerked reflexively on the trigger and before I could process what was happening, a shot rang out. Matthew Riley was dead before he hit the floor. Emily lowered her gun and holstered it before rushing over to Brenda, leaving me to check Riley for a pulse and radio in to the others.

"Hey, Brenda," Emily said, squatting down to her level and pulling the distraught girl into a warm embrace. "Hey, it's okay. He's not going to hurt you ever again."

Brenda was crying hysterically, but I managed to make out some of her words through her sobs, and I know Emily did, too, because her stance stiffened and she held Brenda tighter in her arms. "I w-wanted him to k-kill me!"

Emily's own eyes watered, the first sign of emotion I'd seen from her throughout this entire case. "I know, honey," she said thickly to Brenda. "But please believe me when I say you won't always feel this way." By then, Brenda's sobs had turned into small cries, and she removed herself from Emily's arms to speak to her.

"How do you know that? How do you have any idea how I feel?" Her eyes flashed angrily. Emily gazed at me for a second too long and then sighed heavily, seeming to have made a decision. She grasped the sleeve of her black blazer and rolled it up, just an inch or two. But an inch was all I needed to see the destruction that laid under her sleeves.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Hey, guys! I'm sorry I haven't uploaded in close to a week. I was really busy with Christmas and finals. I hope you all had wonderful holidays! I know I did. I've also come to realise that it might be helpful for me to include a list of resources in this book, as this chapter is the one where Emily's secret is finally revealed. So, without further ado, here is the chapter! I'll include a list of helpful resources for mental health issues and things related to that down at the bottom of this chapter. Thank you for reading and, as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!**

**~ Em**

I couldn't tear my gaze away; on just that small little part of her wrist, there were so many scars. Some were thin and faded, and some were thick and stood out on her skin like beacons. One, at the very front of her wrist, was particularly bad. I closed my eyes for a minute, trying not to imagine how deep the cut that gave her that must have been.

Brenda traced the thick white scars with the pad of her thumb in wonder. "Y-You used to do this, too?"

Emily nodded, all too aware of my presence. "Yeah, Brenda. And I swear to you, how you're feeling right now will not last forever. Please, please try. I know it feels like nothing's worth it and there's nothing here for you anymore but I promise you that there is so much more to life than this awful feeling. There's so many more things for you to see, people for you to meet, places for you to go. Where's someplace you really want to go, Brenda?"

"Paris," the teenager replied shyly.

"Paris, great," Emily said eagerly, smiling down at the young girl. "The City of Love. When you wake up in the morning and you wish you could just go back to sleep and never wake up, I want you to think about that. Think about Paris, and how you want to go there someday. It'll help."

"Thank you," Brenda said, leaning in to give Emily another hug. "T-Thank you so much."

"Of course, sweetheart," Emily replied, smiling down at her. At some point during their exchange, she had rolled her sleeve back up. Hotch and the others came in through the door with Brenda's mother, who was beside herself with relief.

"Go on," Emily said, and urged Brenda towards her mother. Just before she reached her, Emily said, "And talk to her, Brenda. Please. There's nothing wrong with talking. You can let yourself be vulnerable. You don't need to do this alone."

"Okay." Brenda nodded. "Thank you."

"Anytime, honey." Emily slipped her one of her business cards before getting up and facing me. She must have been able to read my emotions on my face, because she sighed and said, "Come on, Jayj. Let's talk about this back at the hotel."

Hotch decided that, since we were all tired and worn out from catching the unsub, that we'd leave first thing tomorrow morning instead of flying home that night. I was grateful, as it gave me the perfect opportunity to talk to Emily.

When we returned to our hotel rooms, I was slightly peeved to find that Emily actively avoided me and my attempts to engage her in conversation. Instead she milled around, packing her bag and going into the bathroom to change her clothes. When she came out in a long-sleeved sleep shirt and pyjama pants, I felt tears fill my eyes.

"Emily…"

"What, JJ?" she snapped, whirling to face me. She softened immediately when she saw that I was on the verge of tears. "Hey, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap," she apologised.

"Emily, come here," I said, taking advantage of her guilt and patting the space beside me. She reluctantly moved to sit next to me, keeping her gaze trained on her lap.

"Let me see, Em." Her eyes widened and she looked up to meet my intense baby blues.

"No, JJ, I can't," she pleaded desperately.

"I knew," I mumbled.

"What?"

"I knew," I said, louder. "I think I've always known. I saw the little things you tried to hide. I saw the winces and the long sleeves and all the times you'd disappear somewhere and come back with blood spots on your hands." The tears were close to spilling over now. "I knew, and I didn't say anything, because I was so sure I was wrong, that you couldn't ever really be doing that."

"Jayj, baby, I'm not."

"Don't lie to me, Emily!" I snapped. "I know you're still doing it! You may have Brenda Thomas fooled, but I know better! You didn't just 'used to' do it. You still do it, Emily."

She looked down at her lap in shame. One hand went to play with the fabric of her sleeve unconsciously. When I noticed that she had begun scratching at her wrist, I took her hand in my own, lacing our fingers together.

"When was the last time you did it?" Emily's lip trembled, and I could tell that it was taking every ounce of willpower in her to keep the tears at bay.

"T-Today," she whispered. A single tear rolled down her cheek. I wiped it away with the pad of my thumb, stroking her cheek delicately.

"Em, sweetheart, it's okay," I comforted her. "We're going to get you some help."

At this, Emily ripped her hand from mine and stood up. "You can't tell Hotch, JJ."

"Emily, he needs to know," I argued. "You carry a weapon, for christ's sake!"

She glared at me, her eyes flashing. "I'm not a child, Jennifer. I can handle myself."

"Em, I'm not saying you can't," I placated her. "I-I just worry." At that, Emily sighed and began pacing the length of my bed.

"JJ, I'm not suicidal," she said. "I won't kill myself, if that's what you're worried about."

"But what if you do it accidentally?" I argued. "That scar on your wrist back there was bad, Emily. That cut had to have had stitches." She grimaced, knowing exactly which scar I was referring to.

"Okay, so I've had some slip-ups. I've got it under control."

"That's not under control, Em," I said gently.

Emily sighed and dropped back down beside me, tiring of her pacing. "Look, Jayj, I know you just want to help, and I get that, but there's really nothing you can do. This is just how I handle things."

"Em, that's not healthy."

"Neither is binge eating or watching The Notebook all the time to forget about your problems," she accused, sending me a sharp look.

"Okay, that's fair," I acknowledged my own bad habits, "but yours is way less healthy than mine."

She fell silent at that, playing with her hands in her lap.

"How about this," I proposed. "We both be honest with each other and come to each other with our problems instead of binge eating or watching The Notebook or c-cutting."

Emily considered it for a moment, tangling her fingers together nervously. "JJ, I-I can't promise that I'll stop doing this. I've done it for so long."

"I know," I replied. "I don't expect you to, Em. I just want you to try. That's all."

Emily fell silent, obviously considering my offer. After a few minutes, she softly said, "Okay." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, and grasped her hand tightly in my own.

"Thank you."

**Suicide Prevention Hotline**

**1-800-273-8255 (available 24/7, toll-free)**

**Crisis Text Line**

**Text CONNECT TO 741-741 (available 24/7)**

**Mental Health Helplines**

**1-800-950-6264 (NAMI HelpLine)**

**1-800-622-4357 (SAMHSA National Helpline)**

**1-866-615-6464 (NIMH Helpline)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Hey, guys! I'm back with another chapter of I Knew. This one is pretty heavy on the angst and hurt/comfort, so prepare yourselves. We're also seeing some development on the JJ and Emily front! Please let me know how you feel about this chapter in a review, I love hearing from you! As always, I hope you enjoy and I hope you're having a wonderful day/night!**

**~ Em**

**Update: I fixed the problem with my copy-and-paste that happened when I first uploaded this chapter. I'm not sure if anybody saw it before I changed it, but if you did, I'm so sorry. I'm not sure what happened, but it's fixed now :)**

I took a deep breath and started to question her. "You said you weren't suicidal."

"I'm not."

"Okay, I believe you. But have you been, in the past?"

She hesitated for an instant. "Yeah."

"What happened then?"

"The first time was when I was fifteen in Italy," Emily began. "I was a lonely kid. My mother was always moving us around for her job." I felt my mouth shape into a frown at the mention of Emily's mother, Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss. I'd only met her once, and it was an experience I didn't care to repeat.

"I just wanted to fit in," Emily continued. "So I had sex with a boy and I got pregnant."

My eyes widened in shock, but I didn't say anything, urging her to continue.

"Obviously, there was no way I could keep the baby," she said. "My mother wouldn't hear of it, and I wasn't in a place to raise a child, anyway." She sighed lightly. "I'm still not." A tinge of longing coloured her dark brown eyes for an instant, and then it was gone. I studied her, nodding to show that I was still listening and wanted her to continue.

"I got an abortion."

Emily cut her eyes to me warily, taking in my reaction to her statement. She must have seen something in my eyes, because she began to speak again, offering me a small smile. "It almost destroyed me to do that, to kill my own child. My friend Matthew was there for me. He stayed with me during the process and walked me back into church the next day with no shame, even though my pastor said if I got an abortion, I would no longer be welcome in his congregation. If it wasn't for him, I would have killed myself back in Italy. But he saved my life."

Emily lifted her gaze from her lap, where it had been focused while she recounted the story to me, to my eyes and said passionately, "Jayj, please believe me when I say I'm so glad he did."

I squeezed her hand and said, "I believe you."

I let the silence sit for a few minutes before I spoke up, "You said that was the first time? There were more?"

She looked away, hiding her face. "Yeah…"

"Hey, look at me," I said, grabbing her chin and forcing her to meet my eyes. "I won't judge you, Em. I would never judge you. You can tell me anything."

"Okay." She smiled softly at me, took a deep breath, and began to talk once more. "The next time was when I was sixteen. I was in France then." She cut herself off abruptly, her hands fiddling with her sleeves. She was even more reluctant to talk about whatever had happened to her in France than she was about her abortion.

I stroked her cheek delicately. "Emily, you don't have to be scared. I promise you that there is nothing you could tell me that would make me think any less of you."

She closed her eyes for a moment, clearly steeling herself for the conversation. She squeezed my hand and I squeezed back, hoping the small gesture of comfort would encourage her to continue. It did.

"When I was in France, I started discovering my sexuality." Her face took on a translucent shade, and she held on to my hand tighter. Her gaze was focused directly on her thighs. I didn't push her, knowing that she would look at me when she was ready.

"My mom found out that I had a girlfriend, and she was not happy. She made me break up with her, and that destroyed me, because I really loved her at the time. And it's something so heartbreaking when a parent doesn't accept you for who you are." Finally, she lifted her eyes to look at me.

"Emily, I'm so glad you told me that," I said. I paused a moment, hesitating, before deciding to just go for it. "Actually, I-I'm bi. I like men and women."

"Really?" Emily's surprise was evident in her expression.

"Y-Yeah," I said shyly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "I've dated both, I've fallen in love with both." I managed a light chuckle. "I've even done things with both." I added a cheeky eyebrow waggle and beamed when it made Emily laugh.

"Thank you for telling me," Emily said, clutching my hand tighter still. "I'm a lesbian, and sometimes it just felt like I was the only woman in the world that likes other women."

I laughed. "Believe me, you're not." She laughed, too - a small interlude to our serious conversation. Before long, however, I rerouted Emily to our original discussion.

"How did you get through that time?" I asked her. "Matthew helped you in Italy. Who helped you there?"

"No one," Emily whispered. "I- I actually attempted suicide while I was in France. By that time, I was already cutting, so I slashed my wrists with my razor. I almost bled out, but my mother found me just in time."

"Oh, wow," I said. "God, Em, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she said, smiling softly. "I'm here now."

I nodded, squeezing her hand tightly. "Yes, you are."

"So, that was two times that you were suicidal," I remarked. "Are there any more?"

This time Emily _really_ looked away. "J-Just one."

"When was that?"

She winced. "About...five years ago." My eyes widened.

"When you joined the BAU?"

She nodded wordlessly.

"Why?"

"I-I felt like nobody wanted me there when I first got the position. Hotch didn't trust me because of my political background, and everyone else was upset because I was replacing Elle."

"Em, I - "

"Wait, let me explain first," she begged. When I didn't say anything back, she rushed on. "It wasn't all you guys. I was having a rough time of it, anyway. My assignments back at Interpol had me chasing some of the biggest organised crime bosses in the world, and I was so stressed out from having to keep several aliases and infiltrate these rings that I was just done by the time I came to the BAU. Working undercover like I did when I was with Interpol takes its toll on you. You can forget who you are." She shuddered at the memories, staring at a blank spot on the wall to avoid looking at me. Her eyes clouded over for a second. I laid a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"Anyway, so I was pretty messed up to begin with," Emily explained. "When I came to the BAU and none of you seemed to want me around, it just kind of threw me over the edge, I guess."

Almost afraid of the answer, I whispered, "H-How'd you deal with it then?"

To my surprise, Emily turned to meet my eyes and smiled at me. "You."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. You were the first person on the team to accept me and treat me with kindness. It meant so much to me that you liked me and you were willing to stick with me, even when the others hadn't come around yet. I really appreciated it, Jayj. It was you who kept me going."

"Oh," I mumbled mindlessly, feeling my cheeks tint with a blush. On impulse, I took my hand back from Emily's clutches and cupped her face in my palms.

Then, before I even knew what was happening, her mouth was on mine and I was kissing her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, guys! I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while. Starting the new semester took more out of me than I thought it would. Let's just say that it really hasn't been a great week. But enough about me! Here's Chapter 6 of I Knew! As always, please leave reviews! I love hearing from you guys. I really hope you enjoy this part and have a wonderful day/night!**

**~ Em**

A million sparks ran through my veins like fire, and I hoped desperately that Emily felt them, too. My hands reached up and carded through her dark brown hair as if they had a mind of their own. My lips moved over hers in ways I didn't know they could, and I felt rather than heard Emily sigh into me. My nerve endings came alive and I pushed into her, deepening the kiss. Emily's fingers tightened on the nape of my neck and I could feel her pulling me closer. I trembled under her touch. Nothing in my life had ever made me feel more alive than her mouth on mine. Slowly, I began to come to my senses and broke the kiss.

"I'm so sorry!" I blurted out, covering my face with my hands. A deep blush began to grow on my cheeks. "That was so inappropriate!" I groaned in shame. Emily laughed softly and removed my hands, tilting my chin up so I could look her in the eyes.

"Jayj, that was perfect," she breathed. With that, she leaned forward and pressed our lips together again. I sighed and sank into the kiss, letting Emily take control. She slipped her tongue inside my mouth, sucking on my own sensitive organ gently. I shivered in delight. Emily laughed against my lips, a low, throaty sound that my knees go weak. I felt my eyes flutter shut, content to stay here, pressed against Emily, our lips and hearts connected in ways I hadn't thought possible, for the rest of time.

Eventually, when air became an issue, Emily pulled away. I smiled giddily. Emily mirrored my expression. Her lips were red and swollen, and I smirked at the sight of them. "That's a good look on you, you know," I said innocently. Emily mock-glared at me, and I laughed.

"So where does that leave us?" Emily asked after a few moments of silence.

"Where do you want that to leave us?" I answered her question with a question, suddenly feeling shyer than I'd ever felt in my entire life.

"I want to love you, JJ," Emily said, her voice full of passion. "As more than a friend. I want to kiss you and cuddle you and hold you when you cry. I want to be with you, Jayj. In every possible way."

"I want that, too," I said, feeling my eyes fill with tears for probably the three hundredth time that night.

"Then, Jennifer Jareau, the best woman I've ever known, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?" Emily was smiling happily, but I caught a glimpse of nervousness in her eyes, as if she was afraid that I would reject her.

"Emily Prentiss, nothing would make me happier," I replied. "Yes, I will absolutely be your girlfriend."

Emily smiled widely and folded me into her arms before planting a chaste kiss on my lips. I sighed happily and embraced her back as hard as I could. In a way, I felt like she was my lifeline, and if I let go of her, I would begin to drift away. We stayed like that for a few minutes before, eventually, I pulled away.

"I'm tired," Emily said, yawning suddenly. "Can we go to bed?"

"Wait, Emily, there's just one more thing," I said, cringing with guilt as I realised that I was about to ruin her good mood.

"What is it, Jay?"

_Jay_.

Emily had never called me that before, but I supposed it was a night for new beginnings all around.

"I need to see your arms," I told her, leaving no room for refusal.

Her eyes immediately filled with tears, though she looked away the instant she felt them there. "Jayj, I can't. They're too bad. It's too much."

"Em, look at me." I waited until she complied, and then I brushed her cheek softly with the pad of my thumb and spoke to her in a gentle, comforting voice."Nothing you show me or tell me will ever be too much for me, alright? You can tell me or show me anything. I'm not going to leave or run away or whatever it is you're afraid of. I promise, Em."

Emily drew in a shaky breath before nodding and offering me her arms, apparently not trusting herself to speak. I placed a small kiss to the back of her hand before I began rolling her sleeves up. Though I had thought I was ready for anything, I could never have prepared for the sight that greeted me.

"Oh, _Emily_."

Emily's arms were full of cuts. Among the white scars of cuts past, there were also several new ones, too many to count. They stood out red and angry on her skin, some still bleeding, the blood hidden expertly by her black top. I brushed my fingers over a few of them, but quickly retracted when I felt her flinch.

I did, however, trace over the two thick, vertical scars on both of her wrists, scars that I knew must be from her suicide attempt in France.

"Jay, I'm sorry," she whimpered, sounding incredibly like a small child in that moment. I recognised that tone of voice: the woman sitting next to me was completely and utterly terrified. I felt her remove her hands from my own and roll her sleeves back up, her fingers clenched around the bottoms of them. I could practically hear the thoughts that she was drowning in, so I spoke up as soon as I could.

"I-It's okay, Em," I replied shakily. A tear rolled down my cheek, followed by several more.

"JJ, please don't cry," Emily begged me. "They're really not that bad. I know it looks awful, but it's really not that much. Please don't cry." A tear of her own escaped her eye and made its wet descent down her cheek.

"Em, you don't have to hide that sort of stuff from me," I said, swallowing down my tears as I saw her getting ready to shut down. "Hey, look at me." I cupped her face in my palms, wiping her tears with the pad of my thumb. "You're my best friend, Emily. I love you. I don't care what you look like or how bad it is, I'm always here. I'm not going to leave you."

By that point, Emily was crying, although she tried her hardest not to show it. She looked away in shame as tears rolled down her cheeks in rapid succession. I sighed internally. We'd have to work on that.

"Come on, Em," I said, tugging her hand gently. "We need to get you taken care of."

Her eyes darted quickly to the door, and I realised what she had assumed I meant.

"I just want to clean your cuts, that's all," I said soothingly, gesturing to her arms. "Some of them looked pretty bad, Em."

"I can do it myself, Jayj, you don't have to - "

"Shh." I placed a finger over her lips. "I want to."

Despite these words, which I was sure would placate her into allowing me to help, Emily persisted. "I'm serious, Jayj. It's okay."

I frowned deeply. "You're hurt, Emily. That makes it not okay."

She sighed, obviously struggling with herself. In the end, the years of compartmentalisation won out. "JJ, I can clean my cuts myself. I promise I'll take care of them. I would have right when I did them, but they were kind of on the fly, and I didn't have time."

"Why won't you just let me help you, Emily?"

I could practically see Emily's walls rising in her eyes. I had pushed her one step too far. It was too much for one night. Sure enough, her next response was snappy and short.

"I can handle it myself, Jennifer."

"Okay," I said quietly. "I'm sorry, Em."

She looked down at her feet and sighed before raising her head to meet my eyes. "No, I'm sorry, Jay. When I get frustrated or scared, I get angry and upset. Usually I turn the anger on myself until it becomes less anger and more sadness, but when I can't do that, sometimes I take it out on other people. I'm sorry for doing that to you. You don't deserve that."

"It's okay," I reassured her. "I understand why you did it. You don't have to be sorry."

Emily smiled softly and placed a light kiss to my forehead. "I'll be out in a minute." She grabbed a black bag sitting on the table next to her bed and disappeared into the bathroom. A few seconds later, I heard the sound of the water running, gauze tape being ripped, bandages being peeled away from their protective layers, and a few unmistakable yelps of pain. I winced, wishing I was there with her.

She emerged in a few minutes with her sleeves rolled down over her hands and the bag put together like she had never been in it. She placed it back on her nightstand and reached for me. I went to her instinctively, folding into the warm embrace she offered me.

"Please try and tell me when you want to cut," I whispered against her neck. "Please, Em. I can help you through it. I just want you to talk to me."

"Okay," Emily said. "I can't promise anything, but I'll try to tell you."

"Thank you," I said, pecking her once more on the lips. "That's all I ask."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, guys! I am so sorry about the wait for this new chapter. I didn't realise until today how long it'd been since I updated. My creative spirit has been diminishing, but never fear. That's one flame that I know will never be stomped out completely. Even if it's only a flicker of fire, I know for a fact that my creativity will always last. However, a flicker isn't always the easiest thing to write with. I've been dealing with a lot these past few months. I hope you understand and aren't too mad at me. Anyway, on to the chapter! I know it's shorter than usual, but I just wanted to end it on a good, playful note, as the things I have planned for the next chapter are anything but happy. Oops. Prepare yourselves. As always, don't forget to leave a review down below and tell me how you liked it, and I hope you're having a wonderful day/night!**

**~ Em**

With that, we walked back to our respective beds. I flipped the lamp next to mine off and settled into a comfortable sleeping position. When Emily laid down in hers, however, I knew that already I couldn't stand the distance.

"Em," I called out into the darkness.

"Yeah?" she replied back, her voice soft.

"Push your bed over next to mine. I want to be close to you."

I could practically feel her smiling as she shoved her bed over until it was smashed against mine, as close as they could possibly get. "There you are, pretty girl," I said, kissing each of her cheeks once. She giggled, an adorably endearing sound that I wished I could hear forever. I wrapped my arms around her waist, my head tucked underneath her chin. She laid a soft kiss on my blonde hair, and I sighed in contentment.

"JJ, before we go to sleep, I was wondering if we could talk about something else," Emily sounded horribly unsure of herself. I removed myself from underneath her chin and looked up to meet her deep brown irises.

"Of course, Em, anything."

"What's been going on with _you_?" I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

"What'd you mean?"

"You've been really distant with the team lately," Emily pointed out, "and you've been wearing Rosaline's necklace. I'm just worried about you, Jayj. I know I've been the focus tonight, but you don't seem like you're completely yourself, either."

_Oh. That._

"I'm not completely myself," I admitted to Emily reluctantly. "Well, about Rosaline..." I paused for a moment. "You're sure you're okay with hearing about her?"

"Of course," Emily answered immediately.

"Well, exactly a week from now is the anniversary of her death," I explained to my new girlfriend. "It always hits me hard every year. I just - I just miss her so much, Em." I took a deep, shuddering breath as I prepared to tell Emily the one secret that I had never shared with anyone before. "I-I was the one who found her." Before I knew it, my eyes were watering again, and I was crying a deluge of tears into Emily's shirt.

_Ros, I wish I was there for you..._

"Shh, shh, it's okay, Jayj," Emily's soothing voice comforted me. She rubbed my back in slow, gentle circles. "Jay, I've got you, baby. I'm right here, sweetheart." She placed a soft kiss to my temple and continued whispering sweet nothings into my ear. Slowly, I began to calm down. After a few minutes, my tears were nothing more than the occasional sniffles. I relaxed on Emily's chest, completely spent from the crying spell I didn't know I'd needed.

"Let's go to sleep," I said to Emily. "It's been a long day."

"You can say that again."

I returned to my place underneath her chin, and Emily wound her arms tightly around me, holding me safe in her warm embrace. With the comfort of my newfound girlfriend beside me, I was able to fall asleep within seconds.

~ CM ~ CM ~ CM ~

"JJ! Emily! Wake up, we're about to leave!"

I jolted awake, my eyes flying open, when Rossi started banging on our door. "Okay, we're up, we're up!" I called back peevishly. I heard a low chuckle from outside and rolled my eyes.

_Bastard. He enjoyed every second of that._

I shook Emily, who was still asleep next to me, awake. "Wake up, Em, it's time to go."

Emily slowly opened her eyes, blinking wearily at me, first confused and then, once she realised what was happening, panicked.

"Oh no, Jayj, this is like the third time in three days!"

"I know, I know!" I said, laughing almost crazily as I hurriedly changed into my clothes for the flight back home and threw my hair up in a ponytail without bothering to brush it. I turned around to see Emily ogling my backside, specifically my lipstick-red, lace underwear, and I blushed furiously. I hadn't even thought about the fact that I was changing in front of her. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Emily laughed and headed to the bathroom to change and do her makeup. I didn't bother with makeup - instead, I packed our things up so the bags would be ready to go when she was.

She emerged from the bathroom a total of three minutes later, makeup done and hair brushed to lay flat against her back.

"Ready?" I asked her.

"Ready," she confirmed.

We rushed downstairs, where the SUVs were waiting for us.

"Well, it's about time," Morgan complained, a playful smile on his face. He sat behind the wheel of the SUV he had long ago claimed as his, eating a blueberry muffin.

"Hotch already took Reid and headed for the airport," Rossi explained from the driver's seat of the other SUV. "Looks you have to deal with us, girls."

"Yeah, come on over here, princess," Morgan invited Emily, patting the seat next to him. Emily smiled at him and threw her bag into the backseat before turning to me.

"Sembri estremamente caldo in rosso," she said seductively. I blushed. I didn't know what she said, but I was fairly certain it wasn't something I wanted anyone else to hear.

"Emily, you know I don't speak that language, whatever it is," I ventured, my voice taking on a whiny tone.

She winked. "Lo so." With that, Emily turned away from me with a twirl of her heel and hopped into the SUV with Morgan.

I dumped my bags in the backseat of Rossi's SUV before getting in the front with him. He hesitated, engine idling. Finally, he turned to me and said, "I just have a really quick question for you before we go."

"Okay, go ahead."

"Why did Emily just say 'You look extremely hot in red' to you in Italian?"

I groaned loudly and buried my head in my hands. "Oh god."

I could hear Rossi laughing all the way to the airport.

**Author's Note: I just want to say that I do not speak Italian. I used Google translate. So if you do speak Italian and want to correct me on what is, I'm sure, a horrifyingly awful attempt at it, please feel free to do so.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Hey, guys...all I can say is that I am so sorry. It's been a month. I have no excuse, other than life being the shitty plethora of shit that it is. But, here it is! Be warned, this chapter is pretty heavy and triggering. I hope you like it. As always, don't forget to leave reviews, I love hearing what you think, and I hope you have a wonderful day/night!**

**~ Em**

On the plane ride home, Rossi texted me. I was more than a little surprised, considering how little use he generally had for phones and their many features, including texting.

_DR: Hey, I want you to know that I was just kidding back there. I won't out you guys. You deserve to tell the team whenever you're ready. I'm happy for you both!_

_JJ: Thanks, Rossi. I really appreciate it._

I smiled and tucked my phone away, sneaking a quick glance at Emily sitting across from me. Her eyes moved rapidly across the page of her book. I noted with a smile that she was reading the same one she'd been reading on the flight to Alabama. I reached for her hand underneath the table and laced our fingers together. She looked up from her book to meet my eyes for a quick moment and offer me a shy grin. I grinned back, my baby blue eyes shimmering with happiness. Without dropping her hand, I picked up my phone once more and opened my own book.

It was several minutes and a couple chapters later when I looked up at Emily again. Her book was still open in her lap, but she was no longer reading it; instead, she gazed absentmindedly out the window. Her eyes held just as many, if not more, clouds than the skies just outside the jet.

"Is everything okay, Em?" I asked her gently.

Her eyes snapped to mine briefly, but quickly returned to the whimsical view out the window. "Yeah, Jayj, everything's fine."

I didn't believe her, but I decided not to press the issue. I simply nodded and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. About halfway through the next chapter of my book, Emily stood up abruptly.

"Where are you going?" I asked as her hand left the warmth and safety of my own.

"Bathroom," she mumbled. "I'll be back."

I felt my heart twist, but I decided to give her a few minutes. Maybe she felt sick, or maybe she was having girl problems, or maybe - I closed my eyes tightly for a second. When I opened them, I tried to focus on the words in front of me, but I couldn't. All I saw was Ros - bathtub, blood, wrists, razor, _Ros_. Except it wasn't Ros this time - it was Emily in her place instead.

Panic coursed through my veins at the thought of losing Emily like I lost my sister. Irrational though it was, my heart began to pound and I felt my breath catch in my throat. I stumbled out of my seat and made my way to the bathroom, where I knocked frantically on the door, though I tried to keep the knocks soft so as not to arouse suspicion from our teammates.

"Em? Emily? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, JJ," was the mumbled response I got.

"Are you sure?" I asked doubtfully. My heart was beginning to pound painfully now, even though I knew that she wasn't in there killing herself. She told me she wasn't suicidal, and I had no reason not to trust her.

"Yes, I'm positive," she answered. I heard a hiss of pain follow her words, and I knew exactly what was happening.

"Emily, let me in, please," I begged her. "Please let me in, I'm scared." It was true; fear had begun to take over, even though I had no reason to be afraid, and it was shouting at me that I needed to get inside that bathroom. I felt my eyes begin to fill with tears.

I chanced a quick look behind me. Nobody seemed to notice that anything was amiss except Rossi, who had taken his eyes off of the newspaper in front of him just in time to see me rap my knuckles again on the bathroom door. He gestured at Hotch, who was asleep on the seat across from him, silently asking if he needed to wake him. I shook my head, knowing Emily would never forgive me if I let the rest of the team find out about her secret. As much as I hated that no one else knew, being someone Emily could trust would mean more than trying to force her to seek help from a professional.

Rossi looked around quickly. Morgan was near the front of the jet with his headphones on and his eyes closed. He wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings, instead choosing to immerse himself in whatever it was he listened to during every flight we had. Reid was curled up on the couch, sleeping peacefully. Seeing that the coast was clear, Rossi began to make rapid movements with his hands. I was confused for a few seconds before I realised that it was sign language. He was asking if everything was okay.

I didn't know that Rossi knew sign language, but I didn't waste any time questioning it. Instead, I signed back, 'Yes', to which he replied with 'Okay'. I made the symbol for 'Thank you', and he merely nodded, returning to his newspaper. For once, I was thankful that while Rossi may be the biggest gossip there ever was, his morals regarding privacy were extremely high.

My attention was brought back to the bathroom door when I heard a lock click from inside. Sighing in relief, I turned the handle and stepped into the bathroom.

Emily was leaning over the sink. Her right sleeve was rolled down and in place, but she held a bloody towel to her left. Her eyes met mine in the cracked mirror, (Morgan had punched it once after a particularly rough case, and the rest of us pretended we didn't notice it) and they were disturbingly blank.

"I'm fine, JJ," she muttered.

I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, resting my head on her shoulder. "No, you're not." While she didn't relax into my touch, she didn't push me off of her, either. A few minutes passed before I straightened up and asked, "What can I do?"

"Get my black bag for me," Emily replied emotionlessly, her voice low. "It's in the side pocket of my duffel."

Happy to have something to do, I rushed to our seats to retrieve it for her. When I returned, she had removed the towel from her wrist and was running it under cold water from the tap. I heard her wince even over the sound of the rushing water. I walked a few paces forward, until I could see her arm. I felt my heart sink when I saw the three fresh, deep cuts.

I handed her the bag she had requested. I was amazed that she hadn't kicked me out yet, that she was allowing me to stay for the process she must go through quite often.

Emily pulled out the gauze from her black bag and ripped the tape to unspool it. She removed the bloodied wrap from the night before and began to wrap the new one around her arm until it was sufficiently tight. She tore the tape with her teeth and pinned it to her injured arm. Then, she removed a large bandage from the bag and placed it securely over the new cuts. Finally, Emily rolled her sleeve back down and replaced the items in her black bag, erasing any proof that anything was wrong.

She turned to me and sighed tiredly, finally meeting my eyes for the first time throughout the entire process. "I'm sorry, JJ," she whispered. Her tone was remorseful, although I had a feeling she was apologising for my insight into it rather than the act itself. Her dark brown eyes were tired and empty, and it reminded me uncomfortably of looking into an abyss.

"It's okay," I reassured her, wrapping a supportive arm around her shoulders. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Em."

She rested her head on my shoulder for a minute, closing her eyes. I allowed her that small comfort, not even bothering to pretend I didn't need it just as much as she did. A part of me wished that we could stay like that forever and never have to deal with the aftermath of what she'd done. But I knew we needed to, so eventually, I lifted her head from my shoulder, placing a soft kiss on both of her cheeks, just like I'd done the night before. She smiled up at me softly.

"Can we talk about this later, please, Jay?" Emily asked me. Her voice was low and pleading. "I really just want to sleep right now."

"Of course, baby," I replied. "Whatever you need."

With that, we walked back to our seats, my arm still around her shoulders. This time, instead of sitting opposite each other, Emily climbed in next to me. I didn't question her; instead, I twisted my body so she could lay on my chest, and drew the blanket I'd taken to keeping on the jet for myself around us both. She sighed contentedly and let her eyes flutter closed. I placed a soft kiss to her forehead as her breathing began to even out. I trained my gaze on the ceiling and mentally prayed to Rosaline to help me help Emily.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Hey, guys. I am so incredibly sorry for the lack of updates. I'm ****_so _****bad at writing the middle of my stories. I can do beginnings well. I can do endings just fine. But middles? Apparently, they're my kryptonite. I'm trying my best, but my inspiration has gotten so low. I'm not giving up, though! I really like this story and I definitely want to see it through to the end. That being said, please have patience with me as I try to figure out how to write this. And if anyone has any ideas or suggestions for it, please feel free to send them my way! (I'll credit you, of course.) I could sure use some. So, yeah. Here's the next chapter of I Knew! I really hope you like this! Please leave reviews if you want to, I love hearing what you guys think! And as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!**

**~ Em**

When we arrived back at Quantico, I expected Emily to come straight to me. She was usually never one to delay the inevitable. However, she was the first person off the jet and in the bullpen, and she immediately reached for her stack of paperwork. My heart fell, and I sighed softly. Clearly, she wasn't any more willing to talk now than she was on the plane.

Before I returned to my office and my own monstrously large pile of work, I shot her a quick text.

_JJ: Em, please come to my office when you're finished. You know we need to talk._

_EP: Okay._

It wasn't the answer I was hoping for, but it was something. I set my phone down, reached for a pen, and reluctantly got to work.

It was about six o'clock when Morgan threw down the last of his paperwork and shouted, "I'm out of here! Come on, baby girl." I smiled as he and Garcia walked triumphantly out of the bullpen. Their arms were linked and they were giggling like teenagers. I couldn't help but roll my eyes and smile fondly at the pair. Reid followed soon after, the second to finish despite Morgan passing off half of his workload to the young genius. He surreptitiously slipped some of Emily's files into his own stack when she wasn't looking, too, and it never ceased to amaze me how he could work that fast. I saw Hotch leave, too, with a quick word that looked something like, "You should go home, Prentiss," to Emily.

She chose that exact moment to look up and meet my eyes. I blushed, uncomfortable with being caught staring. I tapped my watch, and she nodded, catching the hint. I turned my attention back to my paperwork, trying to force myself to focus on it until Emily was ready to talk.

Within half an hour, I heard a soft sound like a throat being cleared and looked up to see Emily in the doorway to my office. She was leaning casually against the doorframe, but the way her eyes darted around the room gave away her anxiety. I gestured to the chair in front of my desk, silently inviting her to sit. She did. I folded my arms on top of my desk, waiting for her to say something. Instead, she played with her hands in her lap, occasionally digging her fingernail into the skin in what had to be a painful movement. I opened my mouth, about to call her out on it, when some unprecedented insight came to me.

I suddenly realised what the situation must look like to her - me behind the desk, her in the chair opposite me. I felt shame rise in my throat. Emily must have felt like a troublesome subordinate, not someone I love, someone I wanted to have a mature, adult conversation with.

With that in my mind, I lifted - not dragged - my chair over to her and settled myself beside her. I picked up one of her hands and wrapped it in my own, giving it an encouraging squeeze. She refused to meet my eyes. I waited patiently.

Eventually, Emily took a deep breath, and said, "I'm sorry, JJ." She didn't lift her head when she spoke.

"It's okay, Em," I replied, placing a light kiss to her knuckles. "You don't have anything to apologise for."

"I do, though," she said, her eyes still trained on her lap. "I told you I was going to tell you when I felt like hurting myself, and I didn't. I understand if you're angry with me."

"I'm not mad at you," I hastened to assure her. "And you told me that you would try to tell me when you felt like cutting. I didn't expect you to do it the first time you felt the urge, Em."

"You also didn't expect the first time to be today," she accused me.

I sighed. As usual, Emily was spot-on. "No, I didn't," I admitted, "but that doesn't mean I'm any less proud of you."

Emily scoffed. "What exactly could you possibly be proud of me for, JJ?"

I hesitated, considering my answer. She was doing her best to push me away and keep some semblance of emotional distance between us. It had to be the right thing to say, or there was no way she would believe me. Eventually, I said, "For letting me stay. Last night, you wouldn't let me in the bathroom while you cleaned your cuts. But today, you let me stay."

Emily chuckled lightly. "What if I told you it was only because I was afraid you were going to have a heart attack out there?"

I kissed her knuckles again. "I'd still be grateful."

A few moment's silence invaded us. I had absolutely no clue what to say. There were things I'd swore I would say to someone in Ros's position, should I ever come across one of them. After her death, I was unable to stop going over all of the things that I wished I said to her before it was too late. But Emily wasn't Ros; they were two very different people. Ros was open, as open as someone with depression and suicidal thoughts could be.

Emily, on the other hand, was a private person if I'd ever seen one. I knew that even letting me in the vicinity of her cuts was the most she'd ever trusted another person before. I wasn't sure what to do with that. I wasn't sure how far I could push her before her walls went up again and she shut me out.

Luckily enough for me, though, I didn't have to say anything. Emily spoke again, her voice a tremulous murmur this time.

"JJ, I...do you know what depression is?"

I looked at her, bewildered. "Of course I do, Em."

"Well, that's...I mean, I...depression is something I suffer from."

I wasn't sure where she was going with this at all. "I-I figured that, Emily."

"Well, sometimes depression makes it hard for me to feel...okay." I waited for her to say more, but she clamped her lips together and avoided my gaze.

"If you feel that way, you know...I mean, you know you can talk to me, right? O-Or somebody." I paused, chewing my bottom lip. "You can always talk to me."

Emily shook her head. "No. No, I can't." She said it firmly, as though it were a fact.

I took both of her hands in my own and squeezed tightly. "Yes, you can. With me, you can."

She didn't say anything, and dropped her gaze to her lap once again.

I felt myself deflate. I wasn't sure how or why, but somehow I knew I'd lost that battle.

I asked, "Do you still feel the way you felt on the plane?"

Emily looked like she didn't want to answer. "Yes," she said simply.

"Maybe you should stay with me tonight," I ventured carefully. "I have a guest bed - " I was cut off by Emily, who lifted her head to glare at me.

"I don't appreciate you insinuating that I can't take care of myself," she snapped.

"Well, maybe because you can't!" I snapped back, and immediately regretted it.

Emily stood up and tugged her hands from my own. "I am an adult, and what I do to cope with my personal problems is nobody else's business!" Though the anger was definitely still there, I heard a note of desperation in her voice. She was begging in her own way, pleading with me to trust her.

I softened my tone. "It is my business," I insisted gently but firmly, "because I'm your best friend, your girlfriend, and I love you, Emily." After a few second's pause, I added, "And I don't want you hurting yourself!" My voice cracked on the last syllable, and I felt tears fill my eyes.

Emily's gaze immediately softened, and she took a step forward, reaching out for me. I welcomed her embrace, burying my face into her chest.

"This is why I don't tell people," Emily said after a few minutes, her voice thick. "It upsets them so much."

I pulled back to look at her. "Of course it upsets people, Emily. We care about you!"

She shook her head. Her eyes were full of some emotion I couldn't identify. I barely heard the whisper that followed. "You shouldn't."

"Emily," I began. I cupped her face in my palms, forcing her to look into my cerulean eyes that I hoped would be able to convey my sincerity. "You are one hell of a woman. You're fucking amazing, really. In the field, I've never seen someone so good at their job. You're the one that Hotch sends the new recruits to shadow, you know. When you're not in the field, you're a wonderful friend. You hug Garcia and let her sob all over you when she sees something on the screens she can't forget. You take Morgan out for drinks and dancing and get him comfortable enough to tell you what's on his mind. You calm Reid down from a full-blown panic attack when he wakes up on the jet with nightmares. You sit and drink with Rossi for hours until he opens up to you. And you, Emily Prentiss, are the only person in this world that can convince the great Aaron Hotchner to take a break. And me? There are so, so many things that you do for me. You take care of other people, Emily. It's basically your second job." I added a wry smile after my last sentence, and I was rewarded with a slight twitch upwards of Emily's lips in return.

"You do all of that for others, because you _care_. And we care about you, too, Emily. So why won't you let anyone else help you the way you help them?"

Emily leaned her forehead against mine and closed her eyes. "Because I don't deserve it, JJ."

"Yes, you do," I replied firmly. "Look at me, Emily." She opened her eyes.

"Do you know why you deserve it?"

She shook her head.

I lined myself up with her lips and responded, "Because you - "

Kiss.

"Are."

Kiss.

"Amazing."

Emily laughed slightly at my antics and pressed a soft kiss to my temple. "I wish I could believe you."

"You will," I promised her. "Someday, you will."


End file.
